


A Trip to the Mall

by castiel_in_his_cell



Series: r i d i c u l o u s      f a i t h [4]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), DCU (Movies), Dark Knight (2008), Supernatural
Genre: Baby Sam, Domestic Dean Winchester, John Winchester Being an Asshole, Other, Protective Dean Winchester, Shopping Malls, Young Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, simon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 02:59:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6139015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_in_his_cell/pseuds/castiel_in_his_cell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean sneaks baby Sam out to the mall when their dad is out hunting. Without knowing it, Dean takes a journey of a peculiar experience...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Trip to the Mall

Dad’s on a hunting trip, and he hasn’t been home in ten minutes. He said he’d be back tonight, so that leaves a whole day for Dean and Sam. Even though Dean is supposed to be studying up on the lore of Werewolves, instead, he has planned to take Sam to the arcade at West Ridge Shopping Mall. It’s going to be the farthest he has ever travelled alone, and he can’t help but feel a little nervous. He’s saved up for the bus ride and has timed his entrances and exits exactly to when dad will be home. All he had to do was wait for the day Dad leaves, and today is that day.

So the minute he hears the familiar roar his dad pulling out of the drive way in his Black 67 Chevy Impala, he wraps the little baby into a blanket, stuffs his bag with diapers, milk, a pacifier and heads out the door.

In about 30 minutes, Dean has already boarded the bus, and he is fascinated by the four person family sitting behind him. The two parents have flowing blond hair, perfect white teeth, and are carrying a selection of knapsacks and fanny packs. They have two children. The son is wearing a checkered button up shirt, has tight slicked back hair and possessed a wide symmetrical smile. It’s as if he is a living doll. His younger sister is wearing pigtails tied with ribbons, and is sitting on the bus swinging her legs in her pink frilly dress. 

Dean feels underdressed in his ragged, extra-large, hand-me-down t shirt and old navy green duffel. But still, he is captivated.

They sat there doing a peculiar thing. Singing. The bus echoed with their road trip songs, and as they sang one number after another, more and more people sighed and mumbled in response to the nuisance. Unalike the others on the bus, who have faced away from the family, tried to block out their songs, or have plugged their earphones in, Dean bounces along to the tunes merrily. 

Whenever an opportunity presents itself, Dean glances back at the family, just to catch glimpses of their surreal lifestyle. Sometimes, he even finds himself wondering what it would be like to live that life. They are probably going out to see friends and family, or maybe leaving home for a day outdoors, or having a picnic. The girl probably goes home to a room full of plush teddy bears and new dresses. And the boy goes home to play video games while eating a bag of Cheetos. And the parents return to their suburban home from their jobs at the sales company to a nice shower and a home cooked dinner. Not long after, Dean finds he has constructed an entire fantasy to their world.

He hears them singing and chatting behind him. They seem occupied, so he steals the chance to get another glance. As he turns back to look, he sees the two siblings miming childish gestures with their made up song, sees the father laughing along with his children, but when he shifts his eyes to the mother, he finds that she is staring straight back at Dean.  
Dean swings instantly behind the back of his seat. Praying he is out of sight.

“Little boy, is there something wrong?” She asks.

Dean holds his breath.

“Are you lonely?”

He counts to three, hoping she will lose interest in him by then.

One. Two. Three.

“Hello?”

I guess not. Try again. One. Two. Three.

“Where are your parents?”

Oh biscuits. Why won’t she leave me alone?

Slowly, Dean peeks out from behind the seat.

“My parents aren’t here.” He mumbles.

The lady seems confused, but choose not a press the matter any further.

“You seem lonely, how about Ashley goes to sit next to you to keep you company? You would do that, wouldn’t you Ashley?”

Ashley, apparently the girl in the pink fluffy dress, nods eagerly and hops into the seat next to Dean.

“Hi!” Her bubbly voice almost made Dean jump.

“Hi…” He replies.

And soon they become immersed in a friendly conversation. Dean remains weary of speaking to other people, but he doesn’t need to say much anyway, since Ashley is the kind of girl that won’t shut up. She coos over the boys at her school, complains about her friend Stacey, who won’t stop copying her style apparently, and ponders on what to bring to show and tell for school on Monday. Despite her unending chatter, Dean has no problem with listening, but soon, he gains the confidence to tell her a bit about the baby sleeping in his arms.

“This is my little brother, Sammy.”

“Aww, he’s cute. Anyway, I told Stacey that she was totally wearing the exact same outfit I was wearing the other day, and she said-"

“He’s almost one year old.”

Ashley looks at him with a blank expression.

“What?”

“My brother. He’s almost one year old. And he cries a lot.”

“Oh. Speaking of crybabies, Stacey then got real mad and told me that she wouldn’t want too copy my style anyway because I had no style! How could she?!”

“So, how are you two doing?” Ashley’s mum head pokes through the seats.

“It’s going great!” Ashley exclaims. “Dean is great listener.”

Her brother shouts teasingly from behind, “Yeah, only ‘cause you’re in love with him!”

“Shut up!” She yells, blushing. Dean turns away, embarrassed. He’s never ran into a situation like this, for in all his 6 years of living, he only attended a year of school, so the norms of discussions with other children were definitely not familiar to him.

“Are you really in love with me?” He asks obliviously.

Ashely blinks at him in shock, it was not like a child to be so flat-out. The decoding of childish romance is supposed to be extremely complex. If you like a girl, you pull her hair and steal her sweets, and if she likes you, she will tell your mum about it. 

This was not so with Dean Winchester, but Ashley recovers quickly from this surprise and squeals, “Noooo! My brother is just teasing! And besides I’m sure you’ve got someone of your own. So…who d’ya like?”

Dean looks at her blankly, for he is genuinely unsure. But her eyes widen eagerly and she leans forward, expecting a reply and not taking no for an answer. He starts to panic and scrambles his head for something to say, and suddenly he thinks of his Captain America action figure at home, and relaxes a little.

“Well, there is this special someone who always knows exactly what to do…” Dean drifts off, as if lost in a daydream.

“…with blond hair…” He continues.

Ashley’s gossipy nature seems enraptured by his oh-so-dramatic confession of love. She leans forward and listens attentively as Dean speaks.

“He’s also-”

But Dean is interrupted by the look of pure horror on Ashely’s face. 

“What is it?” He asks.

“He?! You like a boy?”

Ashley’s brother shoves his head in from the seats behind them.

“If you like a boy then you’re a moron. Boys don’t like boys!” He jeers insensitively.

Dean is a quick thinker. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he knows better than to ask. He corrects himself before it is too late.

“I mean she! I mean this girl…I like has blond hair and- and-”

It is too late. The once friendly parents steer their children away from him.

“Ashley, would you come and sit back here please?” The mother asks in a bitter sweet voice.

“But why mummy?”

“Just do it.” The words are forced out of her gritted teeth.

And so the rest of the bus ride ensues silently, and Dean uses this time to stare out the window wondering what crime he had committed, holding his little brother in his arms. Soon enough though, the bus stops and Dean prances off the steps, unable to contain his excitement. 

“Wow.” Dean mumbles under his breath as he looks up at the shiny escalators, dazzling shops and feels the luxurious chill of air con surround him. Carrying his little brother, he begins to stroll around the mall in amazement, for this domesticated life is completely surreal to him. He sees a sign pointing upwards entitled ‘Kid’s Game Arcade’. So he jumps on a escalator and sprints his way up. 

It’s a dark room, but in a fun way, because the eeriness is overcome by the flashing blue and purple lights, the harsh glowing screens of the arcade games, and the crude laughter and exclamations of teenage boys. 

Dean feels a little insecure, for none of the other boys are holding a baby, it’s the mothers staring down at the little children in their arms, rocking it back and forth while standing with their little push carts outside the arcade, waiting for their son to return. Dean assumes that’s why people are looking at him funny, or looking at Sam funny.

After wandering around for a while, Dean finally settles at a game of Arkanoid, but he doesn’t play for long, because he keeps missing the ball and losing. It’s even harder to get past the first level when he can only play with one hand while there’s a wriggling baby in the other.

He takes a deep breath after losing for the 5th time, and is getting ready to start again when suddenly, Sam gives him a look. Dean can tell what that look is from a mile away. It’s the widened eyes, raised eyebrows, and the half opened mouth curved into a smirk that gives it away. Last time Dean saw that look, Sam had messed up the order of Dad’s hunting maps, which in turn placed the blame on Dean for not watching his baby brother at all times. Before that, he gave that look after he threw a plate of baked beans at Dean’s face. It’s the ‘I’ve done something…you don’t know what, but I’ve done something’ face. 

“What did you do…” Dean whispers suspiciously at his brother. Sam giggles.

“Oh god. It’s the giggle of evil.” Dean realises. 

He bolts out and rushes up an escalator, climbing up the steps two at a time. Looking left and right for a bathroom. Slowly, Dean can start to smell it. The odour rises from Sam’s diaper.

“It’s here!” He yells a bit too loudly.

He security guard hears him and asks him what wrong.

“I need a bathroom. Quick!” 

The guard points to the right. And Dean dashes over there. He stumbles into the bathroom as relief washes over him. 

Swinging his head around furiously, he sees the tiled walls, the ceramic urinals and the polished sinks…but no baby changing station.

Dean’s mouth fell open in shock. Why isn’t there a baby-changing station in the men’s bathrooms? How would fathers ever change their child’s diaper?

In shock, Dean stumbles backwards out of the room. But suddenly, he bumps into someone behind him.

“Sorry.” Dean mumbles in embarrassment. 

But a familiar voice replies “It’s fine, Dean.”

Dean looks up.

“Mr. Rodgers?”

“Please Dean. Enough with the Mr. Rodgers. Call me Simon.”

“Simon…”

“Whatcha doing here anyway? Where’s your dad?”

Dean ponders for a moment on whether he should spill his rebellious secret or not. In the end, he decides it won’t do much harm.

“Dad went hunting, so I’m taking Sammy to the mall… don’t tell my dad okay?”

“No..no of course not.” Simon chuckles, but quickly he notices Dean’s worry.

“What’s up?” He asks.

Dean, being a little ashamed, hesitates at first.

“What did you do- pee yourself or something?” Simon asks.

“No…ew! I’m not a baby you know!”

“Alright alright! Whatever you say.”

Dean decides to man up and prepares himself to tell Simon the truth. So he composes his posture, takes a deep breath, and tilts his head up with pride.

“My brother shat himself.”

At first, Simon’s face remains motionless, but a suppressed snicker sneaks out of his throat. Not long after, what was once stifled amusement has become a full-blown giggle.

“What is it?” Dean does not understand Simon’s reaction, but can’t help cracking a smile anyway. 

“It was the way you said it!” He then imitates Dean in a high voice. “My brother shat himself!”

“Is that not the way grown ups say it?”

Simon is too engaged in snickering that Dean has to ask again.

“Is it not?”

“I-I don’t know. I’ll ask one. Just go change his diaper in the ladies room then!”

Dean looks at him in shock.

“Wha- what?”  
“Dean, no one’s going to care if little boy walks in to take care of his baby brother’s mess. It kind of sweet.”

“But I’m not a girl, Simon! They’ve got cooties or something.”

“Who cares! You’re barely tall enough to reach the door handle for God’s sakes. Stop whinging and get in there.”

Dean stares at Simon for a moment, then takes a deep breath and walks up to the door. But just before he steps in, Dean turns and says, “Wait-” 

Simon doesn’t miss a beat before he flings the door open and pushes Dean into the bathroom. The little boy stumbles in obliviously. As Dean’s dizzy head clears, he sees pearl white bathroom sinks and a stainless floor under the calming lights. Much different from the yellow tinted and grotesque smelling urinals in the men’s room. After processing all this scenery, Dean realises where he is. Oh no. His hand automatically springs to the door handle to bust out of this forbidden land. But when he pushes the door, it doesn’t budge. Quietly, he hears Simon’s muffled laughter behind it. He’s leaning against the opening, keeping it shut.

Dean starts to panic, wondering if he can get arrested for trespassing, but the moment does not last long before a red faced cleaning lady comes out of one of the cubicles. She spots Dean. She is blunt, and to the point while she stands fiercely, giving off the impression that she is just here to get the job done.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” She asks bitterly. 

She struts over in an air of sass and dominance and Dean shrinks under her presence. 

“Um-I- Uh-”

“Get out.”

“He’s blocking the door.”

She rolls her eyes as if this happens everyday and knocks on the door. 

“Open the door.”

Just the sound of her voice could make even the most committed pranksters like Simon give up a trick. The door opens slowly. Behind it stand Simon looking small with his head lowered.

“Go away now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Simon mumbles. Dean finds this unbelievable as to whether Simon is simply mocking her or whether he is genuinely ashamed. It seems to be the latter because he drags Dean by the arm away from the bathrooms. 

“Why was she like that?” As Dean looks up to ask the questions, he sees that Simon’s cheeks are red with embarrassment. 

“What do you mean?”

“I thought girls were supposed to be sugar and spice and all things nice.”

Simon’s eyes tear away from Dean in sudden maturity. 

“Don’t be silly. There are always different types.”

And just like that, the day flew by with Simon. Walking, talking and window shopping all commenced in Dean’s newly found domesticated life. But, for some reason, he could not ignore an unexplainable small voice in the back of his head, claiming that something was not sitting right about this life. So, Dean hopped on the next bus home, hoping never to have to go into a mall ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Credits to my 'idea guy' Dione Hodges. This work is apart of my series: r i d i c u l o u s f a i t h, which will be finished soon ; )


End file.
